Bite To Eat
by XxMeWxX4444
Summary: Harry only wanted to get the greasiest burger he could find and relax for a few hours. He had just got off his latest assignment, so he had earned at least that much of a break, right? Wrong. Death was a slave driver. Master of Death? Most misleading title ever created.
_Britain is always such a pain, no matter the dimension._ The black haired boy - because he honestly appeared to be a boy, no older than seventeen - thought in annoyance. He was skulking down another brick alleyway, ignoring the litter lining the walls and the repugnant smell of trash that clogged his nostrils. Humans were disgusting, more often than not.

 _Maybe I can get a bite to eat before the next catastrophe._ The boy thought hopefully, coming to a stop at the end of the alley and peering out at the traffic clogged streets with curious emerald eyes. Drivers and pedestrians alike were shuffling along, each consumed within their own lives with no regards for those around them. He had just got off an assignment (some serial killer was causing havoc for the London Police Force), meaning he had earned the greasiest burger he could find. He had developed a taste for the unhealthy item after one too many cases across the pond in the States. Really, the Americans should learn to deal with their own threats without requiring his help. They made good food at least.

Not like they knew he was helping them, but still. A little consideration would be nice.

Before he could teleport - _actually_ teleport, anywhere in the world without the magical drain Apparating such long distances would cause - to a burger joint in New Jersey that he had in mind, the boy was hit by a sudden thought. More along the lines of a message, but it was being sent straight into his mind, so it was like a thought.

The raven let out a long suffering sigh, if only because his burger would be delayed. It wasn't like he _needed_ to eat, but it was still pleasant to his taste buds. He only received such 'thoughts' when he was about to be assigned to another task, so he was guaranteed at least a day until he could eat. Or a week, depending on the difficulty of the case. One would have thought that _he_ would be in charge, centuries ago when he and his friends first discovered the oddities that came with the Change. Alas, he was delegated to an errand boy, sent from dimension to dimension in an effort to maintain balance across the multiverses.

At least his required - read: blackmailed and negotiated into receiving - vacation was approaching. He couldn't wait for his month off. He could traverse as he liked, unheeded by the pressing demands of his job. Meaning he could actually sleep for as long as he wanted and go to any restaurant at _any_ time and he wouldn't be inhibited by another assignment.

At that thought, he actually turned his attention to his new mission. His upcoming vacation was distracting, if only for the fact that it happened only once every decade.

 **Scout the Avengers during the Chitauri Invasion within New York City, Harry.**

The boy - _Harry_ \- scowled at the wispy sounding voice, aimed more towards the thought then the tone. Death and his, sometimes her, many forms always had the same quality voice. Wispy, mysterious, and altogether creepy. That wasn't the point though. Scouting? Since when was it scouting and not killing?

 _Why am I scouting instead of taking out the threat?_ He asked, directing the thought towards his 'servant'. He - it? - could hear his thoughts, but only if Harry directed them towards the entity.

 **Fate is annoying.**

Well. That was understandable. Fate had been annoying during the whole Jack Sparrow incident as well, and Death had been pissed for decades when the soul had been dragged out of the Locker. That was only one out of many incidents where Fate had intervened in Death's normal procedures.

 _So this is an essential point in that dimension's future?_ Harry assumed, because honestly that was the only reason she - this time it _was_ a she, since Fate enjoyed appearing to be female almost exclusively - ever stuck her nose in their business.

 **Unfortunately. Just make sure none of them die. Stupid bitch.** Death answered grumpily before any feeling of the entity disappeared. He really didn't like Fate, no matter how civil he was to her face.

Harry Potter - former Boy-Who-Lived and pretend Master of Death (because who could really 'master' such an ultimate entity) - sighed. He was _so_ not getting that burger.

* * *

When he teleported to wherever the most Avengers were gathered, Harry was flabbergasted at the sight. He was dealing with children. _Children._ This was going to be exhausting.

Sure, they were adults in a human sense. Even an adult in an Asgardian sense, if mildly young. Compared to him, however, they were _children_ and they were acting like it considering that they were gathered in what looked like a lab, voices starting to rise as the seconds ticked past. Clearly they were all disagreeing about something, with the large one-eyed black man standing as the main target. Nick Fury, his mind supplied. It was one perk to being Master of Death - he received every memory that the being had, including the life and death and general history of every being in the universe(s). It had been absolute torture when he had first had his mind linked with Death, and had caused him to suffer from a headache for at least a century, but at least he was accustomed to it now.

Glancing over the rest of the room's occupants, he started mentally counting them off. Bruce Banner (Hulk), Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man), Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), and Thor Odinson (God of Thunder). It was an impressive menagerie of heroes, if it wasn't for their obvious issues with one another.

"I thought humans were more _evolved_ than this." Thor growled.

" _Excuse me_ , did we go to your planet and blow stuff up?" Fury shot back immediately.

They both had good points, Harry mused. It wasn't long until he tuned out their squabbling, turning to glance over the glowing scepter on the table curiously. Loki had been wielding it when he had first arrived on Earth and during his soiree in Germany. It reeked of blood, meaning the bladed end wasn't just for show. It was pretty, at least, even if the glowing bit was setting Harry's nerves on fire. That wasn't a _normal_ stone, nor was it a part of the Tesseract as he had initially believed. Sure, there was a bit of the Space Stone there, but it mostly felt like...oh. Well. Wasn't _that_ interesting?

 _Hey, Death, why's Earth got two of the Infinity Stones on it at the same time?_ Harry questioned.

 **...hell if I know. Ask that bastard Thanos, he's the reason the shit's hitting the fan.**

 _Thanos? The Mad Titan? Why would-he's in love with you?!_

 **He's in love with Hel. Not with my other forms. I'd be careful, brat. If he finds out you're the 'Master of Death', he's gonna be after your ass.**

 _Well at least someone would be interested. Which form are you, anyway? Death is usually more polite._

 **Fuck you. Deal with the Mind Stone yourself.**

 _Touchy, touchy._ Harry chuckled before zoning back into the present, startling as the helicarrier beneath his feet lurched suddenly. There was a massive boom, followed by the room falling apart. Bruce and Natasha were sent through the floor while the others quickly scurried out of the door with their own destinations in mind. Before he could choose who to follow, Death contacted him again. **Scratch that. Leave the Mind Stone be. Fate's bitching at me.**

 _Aye, aye, cap'n._ Harry saluted the barren hallway he stepped into, glancing left and right as he sensed for his charges. Tony and Steve were heading to one of the turbines while Bruce had went Hulk and was chasing after Natasha. Thor was moving to intercept the latter, so Harry decided to move to the turbine. He could make it easier to remove the debris, at least.

* * *

He hated his job.

 _Children._ He groaned. _They were children_.

The team had been separated, thanks to Loki. The Frost Giant excelled at causing chaos, which wasn't much of a surprise given his title as God of Mischief. Harry was gaining a headache from having his attention split between the six members - five, seeing as Natasha was helpfully sticking by Clint Barton a.k.a Hawkeye - to make sure none of the idiots left the world of the living any time soon. He had already had to drag Phil Coulson's soul back to the Living Plane, at Death's annoyed insistence. Fate was annoyingly pushy today.

To be honest, Harry was surprised to find himself wishing for the assassinations again. This was _exhausting_. It was much easier to solve the low-level disturbances, seeing as all it took was a quick application of Death's magic.

This assignment meant he had to stay far away from the icy energy, and make sure his charges were even farther away than he himself was.

 _Oh wait, nevermind, there goes Clint. Great._ Harry growled, redirecting his attention to the archer as he took up residence at the top of one of New York City's skyscrapers. Natasha was still on the ground, but at least she had teamed up with Steve. Tony and Thor were flitting around the battleground the formerly bustling city had been turned into, roasting the Chitauri army left and right. Bruce had just arrived, so at least Harry didn't have to pay attention to the man's slow traveling on a beaten down moped. No, now he had to deal with the Green Beast's giant leaps between buildings and the ensuing carnage he dealt out.

Harry sighed, running elegant fingers through his pitch black - and still ferociously messy - hair in exasperation. At least he had managed to snatch a few burgers out of an abandoned McDonald's, along with a chocolate milkshake and an entire bag filled with fresh fries. Sure it was 'illegal', but who would actually catch him? None of the other entities particularly cared, and Death even encouraged him at times.

Sitting atop Stark Tower (should be considered Avengers Tower at this point, considering only the 'A' was left), Harry was watching the battle in amusement, flicking his fingers at any alien that strayed too close. One less soldier for the Avengers to deal with meant there was one less chance for the idiots to join the land of the deceased.

"I can close it!" Natasha's announcement earned Harry's attention, the former wizard (he still had magic, but he mostly went wandless and _willed_ for things to happen, rather than memorizing spells and wand movements) glancing around for the redhead. She was standing before the device that the Tesseract was powering, allowing for the Space Stone to rip open a portal for the Chitauri army. Loki's scepter was in her hands, poised before the machine with Dr. Selvig nervously hovering a few feet away.

It made sense. The Space and Mind Stones were of the same origin - wherever _that_ was - so it meant that they could cancel one another out.

Harry's attention was suddenly drawn to Tony, noticing the nuke that he had just laid atop his back. The genius was telling Natasha to hold the portal open, obviously aiming to use it against their alien foes.

Harry didn't like this plan. No, he _hated_ this plan. It would cause Tony's death, meaning Harry would be _mutilated._ Not because Death would be upset with him. Another soul was always a great asset. No, Harry would be punished because _Fate_ would be pissed, meaning she would annoy Death, meaning Death would target Harry in retaliation.

This added altogether to form a simply answer: don't let Tony die.

There were a few options that Harry had to prevent such an incident. He could simply shrink the nuke and have it's explosion equal that of a firecracker. He could banish it to wherever banished things go and accidently kill a few thousand souls.

Or he could just send the nuke there himself.

Deciding that would be for the best - because it wasn't like he could _die_ , that'd be ridiculous - Harry finished the Big Mac that was currently occupying his hand. Immortality meant he didn't _have_ to eat, but when he _did_ he could eat however much he wanted and never be completely full.

Rising to his feet, Harry shifted his focus to Tony while rolling his shoulders. This was always an uncomfortable experience, but he didn't want to bring out his broom. It'd look idiotic among the advanced technology he was seeing, for one. His other reason was simply that he didn't want his treasured Firebolt to be damaged. Sure, there were better brooms now, but it was his first gift from Sirius. Thus, it would be treasured.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Harry waved a hand at his comfortable cloak, ambient magic rushing to do his bidding. The skin around his shoulder blades were suddenly faced with the harsh drafts that came from New York's skyscrapers as his skin was bared, though the raven haired man simply ignored it.

With a scowl of determination, Harry braced himself for the uncomfortable feeling of bones growing and shifting where no bones nor nerve endings had existed a moment before. It was a perk, Harry mused. Another form of Death came with religions, thus the story of Lucifer and his fall from grace was _very_ real. At least in a few of the dimensions he had visited.

It meant Harry had the memory of wings, though. He had the memory of how they felt, how to fly with them, and simply how it felt to _have_ such appendages. Memories like those made it very easy for him to will his magic into creating such an asset yet again.

Glancing over his shoulder at the black feathered limbs, Harry thought he was getting rather good at summoning them.

"Well, here goes nothing." Harry muttered, jumping off the edge of the roof his fourteen foot wingspan stretched open fully. He quickly caught an updraft, rising in height to soar above the buildings before angling himself and rushing towards the approaching tin can.

* * *

Tony was hallucinating. He had to be. It would be nice if the nuke on his back was an illusion, but he doubted it. The thrice-damned winged boy speeding towards him had to be an illusion though, because those were honest-to-God _wings_. He could see pitch black feathers falling in the boy's previous flight path, meaning that those wings were _real_ and probably solid.

"Uh...do you guys see this?"

The Avengers, who were glancing up to see Iron Man speeding past, were gaping just as much as Tony wanted to.

"In your own words...seeing, still working on believing." Steve answered after a moment.

"Am I hallucinating or did I die? How the hell did I get into heaven?" Clint questioned immediately after.

Tony was interrupted before he could answer, the boy - because he didn't even look old enough to _drink_ yet - did an elaborate barrel roll in midair, coming to fly alongside the billionaire. The boy's lips stretched in a cheeky smile, hand raising up in a wave. "Yo!"

"What the fuck?" Was Tony's only answer. He wasn't sure the boy heard him, factoring in the speed they were traveling at, anyway.

The boy was extremely pale, practically glowing in the harsh sun that beat down on their backs. His eyes were an emerald, sparkling just as frequently as the polished gem. He was pretty, in a boyish way. Lean and lithe, built with a runner's body with only a faint hint of muscles visible under his completely black attire. Tony was half tempted to make a shitty joke about teenagers and eyeliner but held back as those giant ( _holy shit those are_ actually _wings, what the hell is happening?_ ) wings beat down as the boy started descending due to the pull of gravity.

"Who the hell are you, kid?!" Tony yelled.

"Some help!" Was the immediate response, long fingered hands darting up to push away the boy's windswept hair. It was as black as the abyss of space, matching the same hue of his feathers.

While Tony mused over that answer, the boy did another barrel roll above Tony. The genius was confused for half a second before he felt the weight of the nuke leave his back. A cut off yell had just made it past his throat before he found himself staring at the boy's shoes. Despite the speed of the suit's thrusters, the boy was easily outclassing him in speed, the nuke held tightly within the boy's arms.

"Did he just take the bomb?!" Steve yelled into the comm unit.

"Uh...yeah." Tony replied in surprise. His eyes were still tracking the boy, his thrusters using as much free energy that he could spare.

"He's almost here. Should I shoot him down?" Just as Natasha's question came through, the Avengers could see the boy make a sharp upward turn, speeding up towards the portal.

"Well hot damn." Tony muttered in surprise, quickly arriving beside his tower and hovering near the portal device.

"At least he's on our side." Steve commented.

"Let's hope." Clint muttered darkly.

* * *

Harry let out a sigh of relief as he sped into the portal, releasing the nuke and watching as it sped towards the rest of the Chitauri army. Letting his wings fold close against his back, Harry fell back into the air, soon pointing himself back towards Earth.

The Avengers were speaking among themselves over whether to close the portal or give him a few seconds to return. Their debate was instantly solved when they saw Harry plummet through the air, wings quickly snapping open in a painful downthrust. It strained the magically formed joints, and Harry had to idly wonder why he couldn't just operate the appendages with magic instead of muscles. It'd make it completely painless.

Then again, it wouldn't be an instinctive response whenever he was flying.

"Decisions, decisions." Harry muttered, swinging his feet down and coming to a stop atop Stark Tower. His McDonald's remains were still sitting there, stuck to the roof with a low-powered sticking charm. He started to riffle through the fries, unashamedly stuffing his cheeks full until he resembled a chipmunk. Dropping down to sit in his previous spot, Harry crossed his legs and reached for the other bag full of his loot. He pulled out a ten piece McNugget and another Big Mac, completely ignoring Natasha closing the portal below him.

* * *

After they were sure that the portal was closed and the device was effectively destroyed, Tony turned his sights toward the birdman. He was still sitting where he had landed, hands full with - was that McDonald's?

"Where's the unknown?" Clint questioned.

"On my rooftop scarfing down a Big Mac." Tony answered promptly, exchanging a confused glance with Natasha.

"A what?"

"A cheeseburger." Natasha was quick to clarify, while Tony simply rolled his eyes and stared at the wings fluttering at every breeze that whipped past.

Three minutes later and the Avengers were assembled looking relatively okay, if a bit worse for wear. After a quick pit stop to intimidate Reindeer Games, they returned to where they left Dr. Selvig watching the winged male, taking another break to get Bruce a pair of shorts he didn't have to hold up in an effort to conceal his decency..

The unknown had one of the bags lifted in the air, luminescent green eyes narrowed as he tipped it upside down. He had clearly eaten everything he had stolen, at least in that bag. There was another sitting by his side with a large pile of ketchup packets.

"Dammit." The boy growled, causing a flinch to run through the team. With a careless shrug, the boy crinkled the bag into a ball, throwing it over his shoulder carelessly.

"That's-" Steve began, only to trail off as he saw the paper burst into flames and the ash disperse in the wind, "...littering."

Green eyes turned in their direction as the boy started opening the ketchup, dropping it into the other bag that he had pulled into his lap. Tony was willing to guess that it was completely filled with fries. It's what he would do, were he to ever loot a McDonald's.

Thin lips stretched into a wry grin, head tilting in acknowledgement. "Avengers. Asgardian."

It was lost on no one the direct greeting. Thor was staring at the boy confused, while the mortals glanced between the two in bewilderment. It took a few minutes of Thor's vacantly thoughtful expression while the unknown was clearly amused. He didn't take it as a sign to stop eating, though. No, the teen was scarfing down fries just as quickly as he poured a new ketchup packet into the bag.

"Ah! I remember now!" Thor suddenly exclaimed, dragging their attention back to the God of Thunder.

"Do you?" The boy muttered semi-mockingly. Tony sympathized. That had been far too long of a wait.

"Harry Potter, yes?" Thor questioned, blue eyes lighting up as he clapped his hands together. "Your grand tales of vanquishment have spread throughout the halls of Asgard, and many a child has asked for your tale before they rest."

There was a beat of silence before the teen - Harry Potter (and wasn't _that_ an unremarkable name to go with such an apparently extraordinary person) - snorted, an exasperated expression soon crossing his features. "Were you one of those children, Odinson?"

At the God's cheerful nod, the other Avengers realized abruptly that this teen, this _boy_ , was centuries older than they had first believed.

"Of course. Mother rather enjoyed telling it, and brother-well." Thor cut himself off, awkwardly clearing his throat as he sent a pointed look to where Loki rested within his own crater. It obviously wasn't a good time to tell any tales about the God of Mischief.

Harry chuckled, attention drifting down to his bag of fries only to scowl at the sight of ketchup stained paper and the otherwise empty bottom. Grumbling in annoyance, the birdman disposed of that bag as well before rising to his feet fluidly, wings drifting open to counteract his shift in balance. The mortals tensed at his movement, though the apparently ancient man ignored them.

"Hela sends her greeting, by the way. She also demands that Loki is...harshly chastised, if we want to be polite." Harry stated, drawing another grin from the blond.

"Ah, and you shall return my own greeting, I assume? It has been many centuries since I last saw my niece."

"She's stating that it's Odin's fault, which is sort of a pattern for you Asgardians, to put it honestly." Harry mused before turning to the mortals. "I guess I should introduce myself to the mortals, yes? I am Harry James Potter. Other titles include the Boy-Who-Lived, Vanquisher-of-Voldemort, the Man-Who-Conquered, the Asshole-Who-Never-Dies, et cetera, et cetera. Master of Death is another title, though that one's more recognized than the others, these days. It's a straight up lie since Death never listens to a _damn_ thing, but what can you do?"

The ensuing silence was simply awkward. There was no other word for it.

Steve was the first to respond, expression deadpan. "Master of Death?"

"Kinky." Tony muttered unconsciously. Really, it was a perfect opportunity.

"Please do _not_ make me picture that. Some of Death's forms are attractive, but most of them are on the extreme side of revolting." After that comment the immortal looked thoughtful, then annoyed. His expressions kept shifting, and it appeared like he was having a conversation with himself.

"Is that normal?" Clint asked, glancing beside him up at the Thunder God. Thor was happily oblivious until that moment, muttering something about bragging rights.

"Hm? Ah. Indeed it is. Harry Potter is able to communicate with the shades of Death."

"I feel like that had emphasis." Natasha muttered.

"It did. Death is an entity with many forms, most of them assholes." Harry inputted distractedly, frowning at the open sky. After a few seconds he threw up his hands in aggravation, ignoring the tensing mortals. " _Argh_ , I don't _care_ that Fate's bitching at you, Death! I did my job! They're alive! I should take my vacation _now_ and leave you with your creepy sexual tension, dammit!"

He drifted off into a quieter, yet still mutinous, mutters and completely ignoring the amused reactions he received from Tony and Thor. Tony because the thought that _Death_ was shacking up with Fate was just damned amusing, and Thor for basically the same reason, though he knew that both were actual entities and annoyed one another to no end.

"So...who wants to get some shawarma?" Tony suddenly asked.

* * *

 ** _Author's Note_**

 **So, apparently in the comics, Hela is an enemy of Thor but I didn't realize until I had this written out so we're just gonna ignore that fact completely, yeah? This is intended to be a one-shot during the first Avengers movie (obviously) but I _may_ come back with Harry interfering during Cap 2 or AoU, who knows. I only really wrote this because I was watching Avengers for like the 47th time. Literally. I have in on my DVR so whenever I'm eating or reading or drawing I'll turn it on so I have the background noise but won't be tempted to pay attention since I have the damn thing memorized. **

**Uhh...yeah, I think that's all. Tell me what you think about sequel one-shots.**

 _ **Mew**_


End file.
